


Poesy

by sunshinestealer



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:24:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7098892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinestealer/pseuds/sunshinestealer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Jubilee unwind during the Xavier Institute's exam period.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poesy

It had been a long day of study at the newly-rebuilt Xavier Institute. School life was going as normal, except for the matter of final exams. They were coming up within the next month, and while every student in the high school cohort was nervous about them to some degree, Kurt Wagner seemed to be suffering from the worst anxiety.

The Professor had tried to assure him that the examinations weren’t terribly important — mutants at the school were not expected to attain exceedingly high grades, and Kurt didn’t need to take exams at all if he didn’t want to. From what Charles could divine, Kurt’s education had been sporadic and informal, his circus family endeavouring to teach the children how to read and write in their native tongues, along with some arithmetic here and there. The rest was covered by life experience. Kurt had never even _been_ in a formal school setting until recently, and he wanted to make the most of it. Even if that meant submitting to examinations in subjects he hadn’t fully covered.

“It’ll be nice to… have the qualifications.” Kurt had said after an evening of jitters trying to understand trigonometry in the library with Scott and Jean.

“But you’re an X-Man now,” Scott had interjected. “Unless Professor Xavier’s Accredited University for Gifted Students becomes a reality, you don’t need really need a high school diploma.”

“Then why are _you_ even bothering?” Jean said, straightening in her seat and looking pointedly at Scott. “I know it’s a lot of information to take in, Kurt… But just try to do your best.”

“I know.” He breathed. “I want to do well at my first school. I know I can do this.” _Make her proud of me,_ he thought suddenly, flushing a darker shade of indigo at the idea of Jean catching this errant thought.

She made no note of it, however, drawing her pencil back over to the diagram of Pythagorus’ theorem. “A squared plus B squared…”

For now, Kurt had been keeping up a brave face as he sauntered from class to class in the New Wave fashions that would have had him dragged off by the Stasi in East Germany. 

When the final class was dismissed, there was supposed to be a session scheduled in the Danger Room. He’d been proud to have been chosen by the Professor and Mystique as the best that the academy had to offer, especially for their heroics with the Apocalypse incident. Even if he had only been at the school for a few hours.

The final class of the day had been with the Professor, and Kurt had tried to keep his attention focused on the particular scientific theories he’d been espousing… But he’d been up late last night trying to remember some more English vocabulary, more mathematics and history, and finishing up an essay on Goethe for his Literature requirement. (Thankfully, he had been allowed to write it in German.) He’d drifted off somewhere along the line, his mind seemingly captivated by the intricate patterns carved into the mansion’s high ceiling.

The Professor hadn’t called him out during the lesson, but with a simple: “Kurt,” he stopped in his tracks. Nightcrawler had simply planned on shuffling out of the classroom unnoticed, getting a snack from the dining hall before going to suit up for their training in the Danger Room. Then more late-night studying of the concepts that just doggedly refused to stay lodged in his head.

“Take the night off,” the Professor said, with some insistence to his voice. “We’ll try the Danger Room tomorrow, yes?” He was careful not to insinuate that Kurt - in this highly-strung state - could be a possible liability while training with such dangerous equipment. “Raven and I will oversee Scott, Ororo and Jean tonight.”

His mouth hung open a little, fangs unintentionally bared. “I…”

The Professor nodded. “Take it easy. I understand wanting to do your very best, and you are excelling remarkably. Dr. McCoy showed me one of your literary essays over lunch break, and I was very impressed by it.”

Kurt’s anxiety let up some of the pressure, but not all. “I’ll take a break tonight, then.”

“And I’ll let all the other teachers know to expect your homework a day later. Just this once.”

 

* * *

 

Early May was a beautiful time for the Xavier Institute. Students had dispersed to all corners of the gardens, and Kurt was one of them. He’d found a few books to suit his interests in the library. Gothic architecture, the lives of saints, 19th century history, followed by fantasy and sci-fi. He’d camped out under the base of a large oak tree, the waning sunlight passing through the leaves beautifully. Currently, he was reading an anthology of German poetry, with annotated English translations.

Reading for the past half hour had certainly relaxed him, but the anxiety over the first exams he was ever going to take was still there in the pit of his stomach. It was now quarter to five, another twenty minutes until dinnertime.

“Hey!” A female voice called. When he looked up, it was the girl who’d previously shown him around the school. Before it imploded.

Kurt waved to her, giving a slightly forced smile. Not that he disliked her — he just didn’t know her too well. They’d been in separate classes and had barely passed each other in the halls when school started up again. Also, showing newbies around the school seemed to be a job she’d taken upon herself to do — not an exclusive privilege for the new guy from Germany.

“Kurt,” Jubilee grinned, coming to sit beside him. “Jean said you weren’t training tonight.”

“The Professor said so,” Kurt replied. “Just for this one evening. Because of exams.”

“Ugh, I’ve got my French final tomorrow. I asked to take it early to get it out of the way, but… my French is _lousy_.”

“Mine are in the next two weeks.” Kurt closed his book with a sigh.

He half-expected her to come out with some unhelpful aphorism. _‘Just relax! They’re not important! You’re only worried because you’re **making** yourself worried!’_

But Jubilation Lee wasn’t that kind of person. She nodded concedingly, settling just that little bit closer to him. “I think you’ll do just great.”

Kurt wasn’t sure whether the placement of ‘just’ indicated an adequate level of ‘great’, or was some American habit of speaking he hadn’t quite picked up on yet.

“Thank you.”

“So, what are the ones that are giving you the most trouble?” Jubilee asked, riffling through her own book bag and reapplying some strawberry chapstick. “I’m not the _best_ student in the world, but I can totally pass exams, no biggie.”

“No biggie?”

“I mean, no problem.”

“O-oh. Well… That’s good. For you. But these are the first exams I’ve ever taken in my life, and…” Oh no. That knot in his stomach was twisting and pulsating again.

Jubilee nodded, hushing him gently when his body language gave away his agitation. “Let’s forget about them for just one night. Jean told me you were totally nervous ‘bout these tests. Well, I’m not buggin’ about them, and neither should you.”

“Th-that doesn’t help…” Kurt tried to say.

“And what’s the consequence of failure, hm? Like, being booted out of this school? The prof wouldn’t look very good if he threw out all the kids that didn’t manage a 4.0 GPA.”

Kurt winced. He _knew_ that the Professor had his back, and that the school was a haven for _all_ mutant-kind, not just the prodigiously intelligent. “…I just want to do really well. To impress somebody.”

Jubilee’s eyes cast over to the book Kurt had discarded. She took it in her hands, thumbing through the foreword and then finding a random page of poetry. “Can I try?”

“Ah. _Liebeslied_.” Kurt couldn’t help but smile on the inside. The goofy grin on her face, and the fact that she was offering to read a romantic poem… well, anybody would turn from a nervous wreck to the happiest person on the planet, right? He gestured for her to continue, hopefully hiding his dark blue blush.

Jubilee propped up the book so it was open between them. “I did German for a little while at my last school, you know… Sorry if it’s bad.”

Then she began to recite.

_Wie soll ich meine Seele halten, dass_  
_sie nicht an deine rührt? Wie soll ich sie_  
_hingeben über dich zu andern Dingen?_  
_Ach gerne möchte ich sie bei irgendwas_  
_Verlorenem im Dunkel unterbringen_  
_an einer fremden stillen Stelle, die_  
_nicht weiterschwingt, wenn deine Tiefen schwingen._  
_Doch alles, was uns anrührt, dich und mich_  
_nimmt uns zusammen wie ein Bogenstrich_  
_der aus zwei Saiten eine Stimme zieht._  
_Auf welches Instrument sind wir gespannt?_  
_Und welcher Spieler hat uns in der Hand?  
__O süsses Liebe!_  

Kurt couldn’t believe how decent her German was, considering she’d only taken it briefly as a subject. When she’d introduced herself to him all those months ago, she said she’d been at the Xavier Institute for just under two years now, and only went to her California high school in freshman year for about six months before her powers started making things blow up in class.

“You’re a good study,” Kurt said, trying to hide the obvious stutter in his voice. “I-I mean, there are some wrong words but… that was beautiful.”

Okay, now he wanted to hide his head into his knees. Kurt had tried to promise to himself that he’d be bolder and more charming once he came to America, but that was much harder to put into practice than he realised. He could buy all the clothes he wanted, to emulate the style of the pop and rock bands he currently adored, but just being more confident in himself and less nervous when speaking was coming along a lot more slowly than he thought it would after leaving Germany.

Jubilee gasped. “You’re smiling.”

It was true — despite his nerves, Kurt had deeply enjoyed simply being in the presence of a friend, forgetting about the tests for a few moments, content to listen to her recitation. He’d been watching Jubilee as she read, how fluid and confident she was at tackling a language that wasn’t her own, and how her beautiful brown eyes kept looking back to Kurt in the early stanzas, as if to say: “Is this all right?”

“And so are you,” Kurt observed. “Who knew Rainer Maria Rilke was such a powerful poet?”

“I should read more of his stuff, then. If it’s this good.”

He nodded fervently. “It really is. He’s one of my favourites.”

Jubilee took a moment to read the annotated English translation, letting Kurt read over her shoulder. “Wow.”

Silence passed between them for a little while, the sky darkening above. They had leaned closer into the trunk together, and at some point, Kurt had placed his hand into Jubilee’s. She’d reciprocated with a gentle squeeze.

The monster that was Kurt’s anxiety had fled — it was hard to continually assert that _he would fail_ and _nobody cared about him_ and he had to _study study study or else he wouldn’t earn the admiration of the one person whose opinion he valued above all_ with Jubilee around. She just seemed to radiate positivity and light. He wished he’d gotten to know her better earlier, rather than drift back into the routine of school life where they didn’t see each other much and associated with different people outside of class.

“Well, we’ve missed dinner,” Jubilee noted, as the lights started to go on in the mansion.

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” Kurt beat down the lingering remains of his nerves to confess that, and Jubilee gave his hand another squeeze.

She pointed her other hand up into the sky, carefully planning the trajectory… and golden sparks shot out of her fingertips, flying up towards the sky and exploding in showers of red, green and pink. The sky was hardly pitch black yet, but dark enough to enjoy a summer fireworks display. Kurt sighed and leaned his head onto her shoulder.

Their evening could not have been any more perfect.


End file.
